Chapter 6: The Truth

"Mr. Jenkins... Tom, come on, wake up. There's no time for sleeping now."

As he reluctantly pulled himself from the depths of his almost coma-like state, Tom realized that it wasn't Peggy's voice he heard. For the second time that day he awoke in a state of confusion. What he saw when he opened his eyes didn't help. It looked like a fog bank had rolled over the patio while he had been napping. Everything was cloaked in a white haze, and he could only see a few feet away. Tom felt even more that he was dreaming, and he hoped it was true. That was an explanation he could live with. He rolled over, half-expecting to see the familiar surroundings of his bedroom again, but instead he saw Peggy's robe lying on the deck next to him. So much for the dream theory, he sighed.

A figure emerged from the fog. That must be who was trying to wake him, Tom realized, but who the hell was it? It certainly wasn't Peggy, unless she had grown about six inches taller while he slept. Tom's mind was in just as much of a fog as his surroundings. Tom couldn't quite make out the details of the mysterious being in front of him. His eyes just didn't seem to want to focus properly. His visitor looked like a character out of Harry Potter, in a long, dark, hooded garment. The face was hidden deep within the folds of the hood. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice quivering.

"Think of me as your spiritual guide, or your advisor," his visitor replied in a deep, resonant voice. "But who I am is not important. It's you, or where you are, that matters right now. So, Tom, how was your day?" The entity laughed at his own question, in a way that sent chills up Tom's spine. There was a hint of cruelty and meanness in it, like someone laughing at a wounded animal. "Oh, never mind," the enigmatic being continued. "That was a silly question. I know perfectly well how your day was. After all, I arranged it."

"You? Arranged what? Who the hell are you, and where am I?" Tom was fully awake now, but still very confused.

"My, you do have a lot of questions. But that is to be expected I suppose. Well... let me see how I can best explain. Hmmm... OK, Tom, let's play a game, shall we? A memory game if you will. What's the last thing you remember about yesterday?"

"What do you mean? I probably watched Letterman, brushed my teeth, and went to bed, like always."

"Tom! Wake up and pay ATTENTION! I didn't ask what you THOUGHT you did, I asked you what you actually remember. Now, let's try it again. Back up a little. When did you leave work yesterday?"

"About 5:30, like usual."

"Then what?" his guide prompted.

"I went to Casey's, like I always do on Fridays, to have a couple of beers with the guys."

"A couple?"

"Oh, that's right. It was Jerry's last day, so it kind of turned into a party. I probably had five or six."

The robed figure seemed to waver in Tom's view, almost as if it were a mirage. Tom wondered again if he were dreaming or hallucinating.

"No, Tom, this isn't a dream."

Tom didn't think he had said that out loud, so how had...

"Now concentrate. Do you remember leaving the bar?"

Tom thought for a moment. That part of the evening was still a little fuzzy. "Yeah, I guess about 9:00 o'clock or so I headed home. I decided to take SR30 instead of the freeway, because I knew I was a little drunk and I didn't want to drive too fast."

Tom hesitated, still trying to recall the details. "Yes... then?" his impatient inquisitor prompted.

Tom began to get a bad feeling as his memories of the previous evening finally emerged in detail. "I was coming around the big curve at Lake Ashton... I must have dozed off for a second or so... I woke up with a pair of headlights, big lights, like on a semi... coming right at me... and... oh shit! I'm... I'm..."

"As a doornail," his guide completed the thought.

"So... this is Heaven?" Tom asked hopefully.

His guide laughed again, with a sound that reminded Tom of cracking wood in a fireplace. "Oh, I can see how you would think that, wouldn't you. That's my fault, really. I have a tendency to make my new 'clients' first day as pleasant as possible. It kind of makes the transition a little easier, even though it is against policy. I've gotten in trouble with the boss before for doing it, but I just can't help myself. Anyway, Tom, you are most certainly not in Heaven. Whatever have you done in your life that would make you think you deserve that?"